


Christmas

by marzichan



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: AU, Gen, Superstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-05
Updated: 2012-03-05
Packaged: 2017-11-01 05:27:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/352481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marzichan/pseuds/marzichan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jake goes home for Christmas. Superstuck AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Superstuck is a Homestuck AU based in a world where supervillains and superheroes are a common sight. In this AU, Jake is both a supervillain called General Terror and the son of the infamous Lord English. You can find out more by visiting [this page.](http://generalterror.tumblr.com/faq) This story was originally posted [here](http://generalterror.tumblr.com/post/14801669114/youre-extremely-nervous-to-say-the-least-even) on Tumblr.

You’re extremely nervous, to say the least, even though this isn’t the first Christmas you’ve spent at your father’s residence. No, you come back here every year whether you like it or not. But this _is_ the first year you’ve ever brought a guest.

After all, you felt bad leaving Otto all alone in the lair for Christmas, so you invited him to join you for dinner with your father. In the English household, Christmas dinner is less a time of joy and gifts and more like a yearly progress report. So, if you were being honest with yourself, maybe you would admit that the kinder thing would have been to left Otto behind instead of dragging him into this mess with you.

But you didn’t want to be alone.

Dinner went about just as dismally as it does every year. Your father is an excellent host, yes, but you aren’t a guest; you’re his son. Too bad he treats you just as formally as he would a random guest. Since you’ve moved out, you’ve slowly begun to figure out that most people treat familial bonds differently than your family does. There’s a sense of unity and support you’ve seen among others but have never felt yourself, a warmth and affection you can’t emphasize with. You love your father, in your own way, you think. Probably. You definitely know you don’t want to disappoint him.

Unfortunately, you usually feel like whatever you do is not enough in the eyes of your infamous and successful supervillain father.

Otto, bless him, takes your father’s questions with a polite but agile wit. You think your dad approves of him as a henchman, although he doesn’t say as much out loud. It’s okay. You’re proud of Otto regardless of what your father thinks.

Just when it starts to seem like things might turn out better than you expected this year, the focus of your father’s questionnaire soon flips back over to you. You handle yourself with a lot less grace, growing more and more defensive as he brings up this or that defeat, this or that new villain in town. You begin to tug nervously at your collar, well aware that you look like a big failure when you’re compared against him—or nearly any other villain back in Skaiopolis—but you still have your pride.

Your pride is what causes you to finally snap, going from awkward man to sulky child in one snarky retort. It was the wrong thing to do, the wrong thing to say, but he always does this. He pushes you every Christmas, almost as if he’s testing you, until your temper breaks and you lash out.

He’s more than game for a fight, but unfortunately what begins as a verbal argument soon becomes a physical one. One minute you’re debating with Dr. Scratch on what truly constitutes a real villain, the next he’s going green and you’re going pale, and then Lord English enters the fray. He flips over the dinner table—as he does pretty much every year—and bellows at you. It’s the same sort of cutting stuff you’ve heard the other facet of your dad say, except now he follows it up with a fist. You’re never ready, even though you should come to expect it by now, and he draws first blood.

Otto doesn’t interfere—not out of a lack of desire to, but because you sat him down before dinner and gave him an express order to stay out of it. You usually treat him more like a person than a robot, but there are times when override codes and direct commands have their uses. Lord English would turn him into scrap metal if he leapt to your defense, easy, and you’d rather have him there to help you patch yourself up when this is all over. You’d rather take the blows yourself than risk him being destroyed.

You fight as hard, as fast, as _dirty_ as you can, but when your father was the one who taught you how to fight and is also much bigger and stronger than you, you have no real chance. Not without being able to transform the way he does.

He eventually calms down and even seems surprised that things escalated to this point, although you tiredly wonder how he could fail to see this coming when it happens ever goddamn year.

This is why you hate Christmas. For you, it’s the worst day of the year.

Otto helps you back up to your room as your father begins to sweep up the broken furniture and remains of your holiday meal. You tell him that the tears are because of the black eye you’ll soon be sporting, not because you’re upset. You tell him you’ll be okay.

You don’t think he believes you.


End file.
